Miles Morales: Private Eye
by MilaniHistory
Summary: AU of Spider-Man: Into the Spiderverse featuring many of the same characters but in a 1940s alternate universe where Miles is a detective with some of his spider powers living in NYC as a private eye. Mile Morales must help solve the complex case of the murder of Gwen Stacy's husband. But as he digs deeper into the mystery he comes face to face with an ever growing web of lies, mu
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Really enjoyed "Into the Spiderverse" and wanted to write my own unique spin on it. Set in an AU world where Miles is already Spiderman but also a Private Eye set in 1940s New York. Thought it would be fun to play with the genre. Plus there isn't enough Miles/Gwen stuff out there so wanted to write my own. Please leave a review if you feel so inclined, all feedback good and bad helps keep me going.

 **Chapter One**

 **Brooklyn. 1946**

I sat at the desk of my Brooklyn apartment that doubled as an office. It was the only spot I could afford in Brooklyn and the flashing neon sign right outside my window reminded me why. If you didn't put the blinds down it felt like some sort of bastardized Christmas. The green and red illuminating the room and my papers like I was living in a Holiday ad. But there was no Holiday in sight, just another cold and windy January day.

I thought about moving but Brooklyn was where most of the action was. Harlem had it's charm but ever since they started building the new skyscrapers I had felt the money was coming in here. I wasn't exactly wrong but it wasn't the kind of money they gave to Colored folks like me. I could be the best Private eye in the city but what would it matter in a world where if I bent down to tie my own shoes they'd think I was there to shine their own.

Maybe I was just tired I thought as I closed the blinds. Maybe I was hungry. I could go down to Dragon City and get a few egg rolls and some chow mein to stick to my stomach. I checked my wallet and it told me that was a no-go. Raiding the fridge I found an unopened beer and half a grapefruit. I grabbed both and sat back at my desk. It was 5.49 and there was no chance in the world anyone was going to come in this late. Ten minutes til' close and I hadn't had a client in weeks. Funny thing, people spend money on gifts and not private eyes like me during the Holidays. Here was hoping someone needed me for something before rent was due.

The angels of New York must've heard my silent prayer because right then and there I felt a chill in my spine I knew wasn't from the weather. In walked a dame that looked like she was straight out of one of the movies. Tall, slim, with a razor sharp jaw, sea green eyes and blonde hair that looked expertly waved and curled into a chignon. She wore a gray reefer coat with a burgundy cap that made it all pop. Her heels with black and had some mud on them. She had walked far to get here. Made sense they never put any rail cars near here. Not near the "undesirables." What struck me most about her was her warm ivory skin. Even through her jacket I could see hips that would fill out any pencil skirt and legs that hinted at some sort of athletic hobby.

She wasn't the first white customer I had ever gotten but definitely the first white woman. It made her instantly captivating and made me instantly cagey. "Are you Miles Morales? The detective?" She asked, her voice had some girth to it, yet a softness that evened out the edges. I decided to stand, I didn't want the lady to think I was some sort of uncultured brute. Eh, who am I kidding? She was beautiful, and I didn't want to come off as the average alley Joe looking to make a quick buck.

"That's what it says on the sign" I answered with a smirk. It was funny, she didn't seem nervous to be in my presence at all. But my heart was going off like a rattling ration can in the back of a jeep.

"My name is Gwen, Gwen Stacy" she held out her hand for a shake, I shook it and made note of the lack of a wedding ring. Not that it mattered, I wasn't foolish enough to go down fantasy lane with a white woman. No matter how pleasant she appeared. For all I knew this was some sort of sick prank and her goon of a boyfriend was gonna walk through her after her and beat me blacker and blue for even looking at her the wrong way. "Miles Morales, private eye. Would you care to sit?"

"Mind if I smoke? I'm actually quite nervous and it helps me to relax."

"Knock yourself out Ms. Stacy."

"Thank you."

Gwen pulled out a lucky stripe from a jacket pocket, I offered her a lighter but she gently gestured to her own and ignited herself. I took her jacket and hat and hung it by the desk. Both sitting down her cigarette acted as a light against her face, casting her liquid eyes and full lips towards me like some sort of sensual nickelodeon.

"So what brings you here Ms. Stacy?"

"It's my husband."

So she was married.

"Husband? Where's the ring?"

"I sold it, along with other trinkets. Had to after his...passing. Only way I could stay afloat until I landed the file clerk job."

"Did he die in the war?"

"No. But he fought in it just like you."

"How did you know I fought?"

"Lucky guess. The way you carry yourself tipped me off."

She was as sharp as a tack, but that could also mean she had claws. Something told me there was more to Ms. Stacy's story than she was telling me. I decided to be patient and let her walk herself around the bushes a few times.

"My husband got himself into some trouble after he came back from the war. Actually before he left really. Sports gambling, horrid pastime. And he always bet what he couldn't pay back. He has a bookie, they call him Tombstone."

"Not a very cheery nickname."

Gwen let out a tiny chuckle at that. Then continued. " My husband got in too deep with him. During the war they let everything slide, but when he came back he owed and with interest. Tombstone told him that if he didn't pay up he'd kill him."

"Did he?"

"In the street like a dog, the police said there were no witnesses. But I think people were just too scared to say anything. Nobody in Manhattan was any moxie anymore. Those who didn't get licked by the bootleggers are getting twisted by someone. My poor husband decided gambling would be his noose."

"And you don't have any vices Ms. Stacy?"

"None that are relevant to this case" she said as she put out her cigarette and looked me dead in the eyes. I couldn't tell if it was a threat or an enticement.

"So you seem to know that Tombstone is the one who offed your man. Don't seem too cracked up about it, what's even the point of hiring me?"

Gwen smiled I had finally forced her to step into those rose bushes. "Tombstone is just an errand boy, I think my husband was involved in much bigger things. I used to hear him talking to his boys when they'd come over for cards. Walls are pretty thin. Heard him talking about a big shipment coming in. I think someone wanted that shipment or he was going to use it to pay back his bookie. But someone ratted him out and they decided why get a piece from him when they could get the whole thing for a simple bullet to the back."

"So you wanna know which of his buddies betrayed him and where your husband's money went."

"You're a smart man. I was right to come to you."

"You don't even know if I'm gonna take the case yet."

Gwen leaned back in the chair, crossing her legs with a smirk. "What if I told you I have information that the shipment came in and my husband hid the goods but I don't know where. What if I told ya' that if you find it I'll give you a cut? Enough for you to move out of this light show they call an apartment."

I weighed the offer, I still didn't fully trust Gwen, but her offer was appealing. And I needed the money, besides I knew some folks who could lead me right on Tombstone's path. I had heard of the man but played coy for the sake of theatrics with Gwen. Perhaps they could lead me right where I needed to be.

"You have a deal MS. Stacy, $4 a day, plus expenses. And a $2 deposit upfront." She wrote the check so fast I felt like she needed a lawyer in the room, not that she needed one. I was a man of my word and I would get started tonight.

"Be careful Mr. Morales, my husband dealt with shady men. They hide in the shadows until they're about to strike."

"Trust me Ms. Stacy with my complexion I don't have much trouble hiding in the shadows myself" I smiled. She returned the sentiment and stood up to leave gathering her things. Leaving me a card with her number to contact her if I got anything interesting. "What was your husband's name Ms. Stacy?"

She paused for a moment and bit her lower lip "Peter Parker." With that she opened the door to leave but not before turning back to give me one last tidbit of information "And please Mr. Morales...call me Gwen." And with a little wink she stepped out of the door and I got to work.

TO BE CONTINUED….


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Shortly after Gwen left I started to compile a list of all of Tombstone's known contacts, but I soon realized the city would run out of ink before I could jot them all down. Seemed like just about every Dick and Jane with a dream had crossed paths with Tombstone at some point. It wasn't a dead end as much as it was a flood of information too soupy to make sense of.

There had to be someone who knew more about what exactly Peter Parker owed Tombstone and why he was taken out before clearing his debt. Tombstone was known to kill people to incite fear, but not in public. Too sloppy, too forward, no finesse. Tombstone was a thug but he knew the score and he knew the police wouldn't turn a blind eye to any blatant malice. There had to be more to the story, perhaps more than what Gwen was telling me. But I tabled that train of thought for another time. For now I was going to have to take everything at face value.

My stomach growled, that grapefruit hadn't been enough to feed a bird let alone me. Thankfully the upfront fee from Ms. Stacy was more than enough for a full meal from Weng's. It was a short walk and they didn't close for another hour, perfect time to go.

Grabbing my tan trenchcoat and hat I stepped out, my footsteps clattering against the wood and steel of my apartment complex. As if the constant flashes of neon weren't enough if anyone moved fast enough down these metal stairs you could hear them all the way down the hall. Even with the door closed you could make out their muffled steps. It was a sort of white noise at this point, but a daily reminder that I was still some cheap private eye taking any desperate case that came across my desk. I couldn't pretend my motives were altruistic for most situations. I had done enough heroism for myself and half the block over in the European theater. And came back home to a world where my cousin could get his jaw busted in for drinking out of the wrong fountain. Money couldn't fix that of course, but I had this faint belief that at the very least if I could be stuffed enough to buy a fountain of my own.

Making my way to Weng's I got noodles and pork with a bowl of hot egg soup. The restaurant was pretty slow tonight, and Mrs. Weng gave me a nice smile. This was the first place I had gotten food from when I moved into the neighborhood. A quaint shop that used it's small size to always appear crowded, and that had attracted everyone to visit to find out "what they were missing out on." The plan had worked perfectly and it was nights like this I realized just how small but effective of an operation than ran.

I hadn't come to this park of Brooklyn just for my health, I needed to make a stop. See an old friend who could have just the info I needed to get this case started. Leaving a generous tip I shuffled out and into the cold night air, walking about a block down I reached a my destination. A psychic parlor with a big green neon sign out front with a big eye inside a yellow palm.

I didn't believe in psychics, or astrology or even lucky numbers. I wasn't even confident in the whole God thing, but I knew every gambler had to answer to something, something they felt that had a connection to. A patron Saint, a lucky penny a sign from the universe that they were destined to win. They were usually wrong, but for all I knew that was just because God hated gamblers.

Stepping into the little hut disguised as a shop I took in the room. Dark red, almost like dried blood, with wood and tan accents. An arched window in the back looked out into an alley with several potted plants on the windowsill. The room smelled of spices and incense. There were little trinkets, statues and dishes with talismans in them.

"We're closed" said the voice coming from the back. It was of a young woman with a thick Chinese accent. I leaned myself against a pillar waiting for her to come from around the corner. When Penni finally did she was carrying with her a tea mug which she sipped out of. She was in a full stereotypical-dare I say racist out. It looked akin to something you'd see out of a terrible Dr. Fu Manchu novel. Penni smiled when she saw me. "Miles! You want future read? Yes?"

There was a brief pause and then we both broke out into laughter. Penni dropped her fake accent and her true hard Brooklyn accent came back on like a light switch. "Hey, close those blinds will ya'? I don't want anyone to see me out of this fucking robe." I obeyed and closed the blinds while Penni took off her robe revealing herself in long johns and a thick sweater.

"How was your day Penni?" I asked with a smirk. Penni sighed and sipped from her tea mug once more.

"Eh, same as usual. Geez ya' wouldn't believe how much people will pay just for me to tell them what they wanna hear? This guy came in, with a ring. I mean a big fucking ring Miles! Thing could light up Times Square and be seen all the way in Yonkers. And this guy, get a load of this, this guy wants to ask...do ya' think she'll say yes?" Penni chuckled "Like with a rock that big she better get down and blow and then wet her whistle with your pecker tracks." I couldn't help but laugh at the visual. "I mean I'm serious Miles, I didn't say that of course 'cause whatdoIknow I'm jus' the broad yer' paying money for your honeymoon for me to say some silly shit."

"Silly shit? Ah come on now, what you do is not silly. It's dishonest. But far from silly" I laughed as I pulled up a chair near her.

"Fair enough. But ya' know what I mean. So I gotta act all dumb and mystical and shit. Ugh, he was so annoying! Like he just wanted to know everything. Eventually I had to say…" Penni put on her best Chinese accent "Future cloudy. You love. That's enough. Spirits are tired!" Penni said it as a joke but she was too tired to really embrace it's comedy. "Every fucking day with this shit Miles. Every day."

"You should become an actress. You're just as good as Barbara Stanwyck, and she never had to deal with some joker while she was doing a set."

"You flatter me Miles, but they ain't gonna give a woman like me a part in the movie unless she's bowing to some white man in a cheap suit. No thank you. Fuckin Luise Rainer, I have half the mind to smack the the pink off her cherry ass!" Penni calmed herself and then turned to me "Anyway enough of that, what can I do ya' for Miles? Want some giggle-smokes?"

"Have to stay straight for now Penni. I'm working a case."

"Suit yourself" she said as she opened up a shelled out book of pre-rolled cigs and lit herself a puff.

"I actually need your help. I'm looking for someone. A dead man. But I need to know if you ever crossed paths with him" I said as I pushed the lone photo Gwen had given me to showcase. Penni studied it with her free hand and then handed it back to me.

"Yeah I've seen the man, he came in here a few times actually. Bastard wanted to see who was gonna win, place and show in a couple of races. Apparently I had gotten them all right the week prior. Can ya' believe that luck? I'm in the wrong business!"

"You never win when you're betting on yourself."

"Ain't that the truth. Anyway last time I saw him he definitely looked to be in dire straits. Like he had been spooked by something."

"Did he mention his wife?"

"No. Is she yer' client?" Penni leaned in her eyes narrowing at me, she knew me too well. She knew something was up. It only took a moment and as best as I tried to mask it she saw right through my facade.

"Ya' trying to get' yer mitts on her eh? Don't let the Micks find out."

I scoffed, Penni was right, but I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction. "Give me a little credit, I'm not going fishing." Penni's face contorted to let me know she didn't buy it but was willing to drop it. "So here's the skinny, I need to find out where this guy hung out. Sniff around and see if anyone knows anything about him. His wife didn't seem to know or didn't want to tell me. Still figuring it out. Got any leads?"

"I don't speak on my clients' personal business. What kinda lady do ya' think I am Miles? I have ethics! Standards!"

I passed her a Washington. She didn't even blink "Come now Miles, a bribe? What about my client's right to privacy?"

"An honest Abe can make you make a dishonest woman" I breathed as I slammed a five spot right on the table. Taking it she stuffed it down her bra.

"Dead Presidents, they've seen it all."

Penni got up without saying another word and made her way into her humble kitchen. She pulled up a drawer and shifted through for a moment. Never putting down her blue sage. When she returned she had in her hand a matchbook. I examined it "The Grey Whale" it read.

"It's some trashy pub down by the docks. Filled with Brits and anchor clankers. They don't let guys like you in unless you're providing the jive with a sax. So be careful if ya' go down there."

It was better than nothing. I had never been to the Grey Whale but based on Penni's description I may have had good reason. "Thanks Penni. I'll catch you around."

"Don't be a stranger Detective Morales" she cooed as she took a long puff of reefer. I smiled back at her and tipped my hat as I made my way outside and towards the Gray Whale. Perhaps someone there could tell me what really happened to our mysterious Mr. Parker.

 **TO BE CONTINUED….**


End file.
